Snatches of a Velvet Coat
by Primsong
Summary: A collection of drabbles for the dashing Third Doctor and companions, including the UNIT family.
1. Nick Knack

_I love Benton's unflappable loyalty, prompt 'knack'._

**Nick Knack**

Benton smiled as the last of the vicious alien mushroom-creatures shrivelled to dust.

"The Brig was worried but I knew you'd pull us through; you always show up in the nick of time, Doc."

"What do you mean?" Jo asked. "We didn't know that any of this was happening!"

The Doctor nodded as he brushed alien dust from the Sergeant's shoulders and helped him up. "That nebulizing anti-fungal ray generator was only in my pocket because I picked it up for parts."

"Even so, you have a knack for it," the Sergeant asserted loyally, "And no one will ever convince me otherwise."

--


	2. Holding On

_Sometimes nothing helps like the voice of a friend. Three and Jo, at the beginning of__ "Curse of Peladon"._

**Holding On**

Lightning flashed in Jo's eyes. She scrunched them even tighter against the rain and wind lashing the mountainside. Rocks shifted beneath her hands, slippery-cold, like the feelings in her stomach thinking about that long drop; the TARDIS already lay somewhere far beneath them now, tumbled into howling darkness.

She took a shuddering breath, digging her heels into the wet earth.

A firm hand steadied her, a cloak came around her, blocking out the cold wind, blocking out fear.

"Come along, Jo. Just a little further." That warm voice was a lifeline.

Just then it was all she needed.

--


	3. I Guess I'll Stay Right Here, Then

_A bit of fluffiness for Three and Jo - some fates are just better than others._

**I Guess I'll Stay Right Here, Then**

"I'm terribly sorry, Jo," the Doctor apologized, not for the first time. "Though I am grateful for your perfume."

"You sure it'll work?" she asked. It was getting harder to move as vines tightened upon them.

"Patchouli is a deadly poison on this planet."

"Hard to believe, it smells so nice," " she said as another tendril slid around them.

"As soon as the sun hits the leaves, these vines should pull that perfume straight into their vasculatory systems. You'll soon be free."

She snuggled her nose into his ruffles and smiled up at him."Not that this is that bad."

--


	4. A Slight Advantage

_Sometimes it helps just to have the right friends. _

**A Slight Advantage**

"We can't hold it!" Yates was shouting. "The men are getting slaughtered, sir!"

The Brigadier stiffened his back; there was nothing he hated more than retreat, excepting the unecessary deaths of his soldiers.

"Sir?" asked the Sergeant beside him.

"Fall back!" he ordered, lending a hand as Benton staggered beneath the weight of another wounded man. "Bloody aliens keep pouring out of the ground," he growled. "We're outnumbered!"

A grinding, wheezing sound came in behind them. By the time they'd turned around, the aftershock of a strange magenta glow was fading and all the aliens were gone.

"Now we're not," Benton observed.

--


	5. CourtMartial

_Misguided or true, sometimes loyalty hurts. Benton and Yates, post __'Invasion of the Dinosaurs'. _

**Court-Martial**

Benton looked at Mike's hands, pale against the dark wooden balustrade, faint marks of recently-removed handcuffs evident on his wrists.

Memories flickered past: Mike at the pub, steady at his side, clever, ready. The Captain knew their secrets. He was a good man, confident no matter how strange or terrifying the enemy…

With an effort he turned his honest eyes back to the panel before them.

…Mike's hands with a gun; his eyes hard and determined, the strength and frenzy of his betrayal.

Something in Benton's loyal heart gave way, a breaking both sad and bitter.

"Yessirs. He did."

--


	6. Hippie Bananas

_A crack! alternate scene for Planet of the Daleks. Never help yourself to alien fruit. Prompt, bananas._

**Hippie Bananas**

"Doctor!" cried Jo gratefully, lunging through the trees.

"Jo! I thought you were dead! That ship…"

"No, I wasn't."

"You were…!"

"I wasn't. I got hungry and there was nothing to eat but dried up astronaut rubbish so I was looking for some fruit, thinking it's a jungle, there must simply be some kind of fruit, and there they were, bananas! Or something like bananas, and I simply stuffed myself on them, felt really, really groovy for a while, then I got entirely lost, hid some bombs and here I am!"

"Er, Jo…"

"They're really wild. I like bananas, Doctor, bananas are gooood."

--


	7. Homeless

_Home is where there's someone who accepts you, just the way you are. Cliff and Jo (Grant) Jones, prompt 'mazy'_

**Homeless**

"They were crazy days," Jo said, leaning on the worktable, chin cupped in her hands.

"An understatement," Cliff said. He didn't want to listen; his wife's nostalgic ramblings about UNIT days invariably returned to the same thing. "Sounded like you didn't even know where you were half the time."

"All right. Crazy-mazy days, then," she replied, unintimidated. "Besides, I was with the Doctor."

"And that changed the situation how?" Cliff yanked a microscope slide with a grimace and abruptly left the room.

"We could've been anywhere, any time. _He_ was my home," she whispered wistfully to the empty room.

--


	8. Now Clean that Up

_Why are there so many caretakers at this party, anyway? prompt 'bauble/bobble/babble'  
_

**Now Clean that Up**

"Ah yes, there they are," the Doctor reached out, plucking two shining ornaments from UNIT's Christmas tree. The supposed caretaker Benton held at bay, his human mask in shreds, squeaked in protest.

"Psychokinetic bi-cyclic endoparticles," The Doctor bobbled the shiny baubles in his hand. "A clever containment."

"What are you babbling about?" demanded the Brigadier. "Are they dangerous?"

"For his kind, they're homing beacons." He gave the tree a firm shake. Ornaments fell like rain, exploding in sprays of silver shards. "There you go. No more alien party-crashers to worry about."

"Good thing you've a mop," Benton grumbled at the alien.

--


	9. Adrift

These small victories mean so little when viewed from a prison cell. _Three, with Liz, prompt 'full/empty'_

**Adrift**

He was standing in front of that blue box of his again, hands stuffed in his pockets. Liz shuffled a test-tube rack out of the way, jotting her notes on the remains of the empty Nestene modules. She tried not to think too much about him, his odd blend of alieness and humanity; watching nonetheless, surreptitiously through her lashes.

He turned from the box to gaze out the lab window - there was such an expression of loss in his eyes…

They'd just had a major victory, he was safe, employed, appreciated...

How could someone so full of life seem so empty?

--


	10. Not Purely Ornamental

_Three contemplates his cuff and his companions. __Prompt 'lace'_

**Not Purely Ornamental**

Humans were so fascinating, he thought. He wasn't even sure why; it wasn't that they were exceptionally strong or intelligent, and goodness knows they weren't long-lived. Not all were good - but some pursued that natural good-nature and these were fine company.

He glanced at his lab workbench, where the Sergeant was teasing Miss Grant about those silly magazines she liked to read.

Complex in their simplicity, patterned yet unique, functional yet ornamental, reliable and whimsical. His own light shone through them, a complement to them and himself.

And they wondered why he preferred lace.

--


	11. Come Out from Under There

_Let me know if you finally have something interesting. (prompt 'martyr')_

_--  
_

**Come Out from Under There**

"I'm busy."

"Doctor, I need your attention on this alien incurrence, _not _on that car!" The Brigadier glowered at the legs beneath the carriage. There was a prolonged metallic banging.

"Hand me that spanner, will you?"

Lethbridge-Stewart didn't move. "An Advisor shouldn't play the martyr every time he's called on to advise."

The Doctor grabbed it himself then disappeared again. "I'm _not_," he replied. "But really, can't you _ever_ deal with these things yourself? It's _always_ 'fetch the Doctor.'"

He rolled back out.

"Poor me," he added with a grin. "Well don't just stand there, Brigadier, show me these aliens!"


	12. And Your Contribution Is?

**And Your Contribution to this Project Is…?**

Compliments are nice, but consider the source. Set during _Sea Devils_, prompt 'flummery'.

--

"You're very clever, Doctor," the Master noted, examining the sketched-out plans then fetching parts from behind him. "I don't know why you persist in wasting such creativity and talents on these humans of yours. They'll never be able to appreciate you _properly,_ you know."

"And your reptilian friends would?" the Doctor asked. He quickly swapped a connector then went back to innocently tightening down wires.

"Perhaps. At least they're capable of respecting genius." The Master's persuasive eyes spoke volumes. The Doctor shrugged off the flummery, unbotrusively tweaking frequencies.

"Well," he smiled. "We'll have to give them a chance then, won't we?"


	13. So Now You Listen to Me

**So _Now_ You Listen to Me**

**--  
**

"They're dropping like flies," the Brigadier said. "Where's that antidote?"

"I can't work any faster than I am," the Doctor snapped. He was shuffling slides across the microscope two-handed as it was.

"If I quarantine any more men, there'll be no one left!"

"Then I'd finally be left alone to do my work, wouldn't I? Now do be quiet!"

There was no reply. He turned to find the Brigadier collapsed on the cold tile floor. With a sigh, he gently tucked a cape around him and turned back to his work.

"Really, Bridgadier, you didn't have to take me literally…"


	14. Does it Have an Umbrella?

_Prompt __'biouvac' - it always did seem like a 'Swiss Army Car'. _

--

**Does It Have an Umbrella?**

Muddy water swirled nearly past the fenders as the storm lashed around them, the cold rains sluicing off the little car's sagging canopy.

"She's doing the best she can. Bessie isn't exactly meant to be a storm-shelter," the Doctor said, both apologetic and slightly defensive.

Jo huddled in the back where it was driest, the wet fur of her coat clutched sodden about her face. "I'd settle for a half-decent boat," she grumbled.

"Oh!" he suddenly reached and pulled a handle. There was a hissing sound; the car lurched upward.

"What…?!"

"Sorry, Jo - I forgot I added that raft."


	15. Pause for Thought

**Pause for Thought**

_Gloating really does take too much time. (prompt 'detention')_

_--  
_

There was a tiny clicking sound. The Doctor looked through his lashes, feigning sleep as the cell door slowly opened and a small, ring-bedecked hand appeared.

A small whisper; "Doctor?"

He smiled, sitting up. "Jo! I see he didn't get _you_ at least."

"No, though you'd think_ everyone_ skipped out on those anti-hypnotism classes. _He_ should be in UNIT's detention, not you." She knelt and uncuffed him.

"The time wasn't wasted, I've worked out how to stop him."

"The Master really should know better than to give you time to think."

"It always was a weakness of his. Come on!"


	16. Amazingly, He can Hold his Head Up

_It's rather large. (prompt 'colony')_

_--  
_

**Amazingly, He can Hold his Head Up**

"You know, you remind me very much of an ant," the Doctor observed. "You recall how they can lift objects much larger than themselves, items of tremendous size?"

"I fail to see the connection, Doctor," the Master glowered. "But I won't waste time on any more of your puny attempts to outwit me." He smiled to himself, gloating, then blinked in surprise as men in camouflage began pouring through every door and window.

One of them, Benton, held his gun on the dark-clad Time-Lord while others freed the Doctor from his cell.

"I meant your pride, naturally," the Doctor commented with a smile.


	17. Green Death

_A/N: Just a snatch of UNIT, post-'Green Death' - prompt 'Third Doctor titles'  
_

--

**Green Death**

"Oh, not again," grumbled the Brigadier. He poked a finger at the woeful remains of the potted philodendron; leaves promptly spattered the floor. "Benton!"

"Sir?" the Sergeant asked from the doorway.

"This plant. How long have we had it?"

"About three months, sir, since Miss Grant brought it in."

"I ask you to witness: I've watered it, haven't I?"

"Oh, yes sir."

"Gave it some of that ghastly green plant stuff. Put it right beside the window."

"Absolutely, sir," Benton smiled.

"Demmed plant has no sense of responsibility. No loyalty, no gratitude."

"Right. Buy another one?"

"This time make it plastic."


	18. Inferno

_A/N: Survival of the fittest. Prompt 'Third Doctor titles'. _

---

**Inferno**

It was hot and all too rapidly growing hotter.

They grimaced as heat came at them in waves, building rapidly to a painful blast that made their eyes squint shut against the feel of it, sweat pouring off their reddened skin even as breathing became a struggle.

"I don't know if I can manage…" gasped Yates.

"Come on, one more go!" the Brigadier urged him, though his own voice was barely audible; painful fire filled his throat. He fought to lift his hands to his face.

"Well, I must say, this sauce is a bit spicy, isn't it?" the Doctor observed.


	19. Carnival of Monsters

_A/N: Just a touch of fluff, nodding to Jo's apparent love of rings as her hands were always covered in them. Where did a few come from? Prompt: 'Third Doctor titles'._

--

**Carnival of Monsters**

"What kind of place is this?" Jo asked, holding the Doctor's arm rather tightly. All around them lights flashed and crowds surged past incomprehensible booths.

"Why, it's a carnival of course," he said. "No need to worry."

"They look like monsters!" Jo quavered.

"Perhaps. Depends on what your idea of monstrous is, I suppose." Seeing her nervousness he directed her attention to a nearby booth. "That's find work, for monsters."

"Rings!" she breathed. "Oh, they're lovely."

"Want me to win you a few?"

"Oh, can you?" Her eyes lit up.

"Somehow I don't think I've entirely lost my touch," he smiled.

---


	20. Distillate of Starshine

_For curuchamion, who requested a moment for Three and Liz._

--

**Distillate of Starshine**

Liz sat back on the little roadster's seat wishing she could to pull off her unfortunately fashionable boots so she could rub at her sore feet.

"You all right?" the Doctor didn't even appear winded by this galloping after alien beings. If anything he looked exhilarated by it, so bright and smiling.

"Just cold."

What would it be like to stay like this, she thought, the challenges and strangeness and the running, always running. She leaned back against his warm velvet, allowing him to block the cold wind from her shivering frame, just sharing what she could of his life.

--


	21. Nearly Sweet as Water

_For starflower, who wanted just a hint of fluff, prompt 'cool_'

**Nearly Sweet as Water**

It was a strange thing, Jo thought as they struggled over ridges of hot sand, their former captors now somewhere far behind. Strange because usually being near to someone meant you were hotter.

She remembered days in school, crammed together, parched, when the heat of the bodies in the room was enough to stifle the life out of anyone; a merciless sun beat through the windows, the sweat trickling beneath her scratchy uniform.

"Jo? Just a little farther."

A coolness enveloped her; she blinked out of heat-addled dreaming, letting him shade her and gently cool her with his alien hands.


	22. Priorities

(prompt _'steam')_  
**Priorities**

Steam coiled thickly in chamber, the Master's key to triumph, a malevolent creature that would soon go forth, taking over men's minds. It bubbled in its artificially warm environment.

Its keeper laughed at the Doctor's forlorn expression. "What's the matter, Doctor? Your face gives you away. You've finally realized your futility against my superior intellect, perhaps?"

There was a _whoosh_. The Master bit his cigar in half as vents opened, dumping freezing air. The surprised alien bubbled and died.

"No," the Doctor replied. "I was just thinking it's going to take _hours _to get the curl back into my hair."


	23. And to Top if Off, No One Believes Me

**And to Top it Off, No One Believes Me**

_Post-Peladon, Jo finally gets a dinner out with Mike Yates. (prompt: grievance)_

_. . .  
_

"Really! I can't tell you how nice and _normal_ this is," Jo said, sipping at her drink.

Captain Yates smiled, reaching for more wine. "Well, I'm sure 'normal' isn't the sort of term many apply to working with the Doctor."

"Right. One minute you're going on a pleasant night out then the _next_ thing you know you're trying to reason with a shrieking one-eyed pickle wearing a curtain…"

"A what? Did you say _pickle_?" His hand stopped, mid-pour.

"Shrieking. One-eyed. Pickle." She hiccupped, nodding. "_That_ is my grievance, your majesty."

"Errr…right. Miss Grant, I better take you home now."


	24. In Good Hands

**In Good Hands**

_Where on Earth could be safer? Liz and the Brig, prompt 'transfer'. _

_. . .  
_

"I want a transfer," Liz announced firmly. "You were expecting this, weren't you?" she frowned as Alistair merely glanced over at her.

"Ever since you arrived, really. Or at least since it became apparent the Doctor was staying on with us."

"Why wouldn't he stay on?"

"Believe me, Miss Shaw, if _he_ could have a transfer instead, he'd take it."

"He's complained…?"

"Not about you. About Earth, perhaps."

Liz paused. "He really shouldn't be left alone."

"He'll be in good, responsible hands."

She smiled. "If they're your hands, I'll believe it."

He coloured slightly at that. "Let's get those papers."


	25. Rebuild that Sand Castle

**Rebuild that Sand Castle (it never fell)**

_Sarah-Jane may need a vacation from their vacation. (set just after Death to the Daleks, prompt 'happy place')_

_. . .  
_

Sarah-Jane picked up the discarded beach umbrella from the TARDIS floor and popped it open to give it dull regard. Behind her the Doctor was already absorbed in dials and gauges. She sighed. Sunshine and warmth seemed impossible. Unreachable. Tragically lost.

The umbrella suddenly spun, a rainbow of colours. He peered around the edge to give her one of those charming, disarming smiles of his.

"Now, where were we?" he asked. "Ah yes! Sand! Sun! Effervescent oceans! Better hurry up and change."

Dressing, she convinced herself than it was her own idea to do so; determination _was_ her middle name.


	26. Relative to Who

**Relative to Who**

_Smith and Smith. No relation. Maybe. (prompt 'admission')_

. . .

"I'm Doctor Smith. This is my assistant, Sarah-Jane."

"Sorry, sir. Only relatives admitted."

"Oh, but I am!" she put in, ignoring the Doctor's look. "We're both Smiths."

The guard looked skeptical. "Not your _wife_?"

"My niece," the Doctor tried, "who also works as my assistant."

"Nepotism, eh?"

"I beg your pardon!" The Doctor protested huffily.

Sarah-Jane pulled him away. "Let's try the other door."

"Good day, sir. I'm Doctor Smith and this is my assis…niece."

"Your what?"

"His daughter," said Sarah-Jane. "Assiznice Smith. It's French."

The Doctor nudged her past. "Yes," he added dryly. "The English translation is Sarah-Jane."

"Relatively, yes!" she grinned.

.


	27. Pot and Kettle

(prompt _'obstreperous_'... a double-drabble this time.)

**Pot and Kettle**

. . .**  
**

The Doctor glared from his now thrice-interrupted work. "Brigadier, I've had _quite _enough of your obstreperous demands!"

"Obstreperous?"

"Yes, obstreperous!"

"Doctor, there are many things men call me, some more complimentary than others, but obstreperous is not one of them."

"You admit you're obstinate."

"Very well. But I'm only obstinate to good purpose, and even then I strive to carry it out decently and in good order. If anything, I would say if anyone present were to be called _obstreperous_, it would be you."

The Doctor drew himself up in disbelief. "Me? In what _possible_ way can you accuse me of such behaviour? Why, I've never been obstreperous in my life. Any of them. I _always_..." He paused mid-bluster to look around. "Whatever is causing that outlandish noise?"

The Brigadier folded his hands behind him and rocked on his heels. "Sergeant Benton!"

A sheepish looking head emerged from around the side of the doorway. "Sir."

"Stifle yourself."

"Yessir. What about Miss Grant?" This set off another round of muffled giggles and snorts from the hall.

"I'll leave the composure of Miss Grant to the Doctor. We'll trust he won't be _too_ obstreperous about it."


End file.
